


The Apocalypse: For Teenage Idiots

by vividreed



Category: The Apocalypse: For Teenage idiots
Genre: Blood and Gore, Explicit Language, Nonbinary Character, Original Story - Freeform, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23459194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vividreed/pseuds/vividreed
Summary: Humanity has been compromised. Nobody ever thought that New England would be the ones to launch thousands of missiles to destroy the world, but you know, stuff happens. The missiles were made pretty poorly, though. Some of them had landed in peoples front yards, not going off. Those were only the second most dangerous things survivors had to look out for, the first being the undead.
Kudos: 8





	1. Basic Information

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this out of spite to prove someone wrong, but now I’m too involved in the characters to stop. So enjoy crying along with 3 idiots who think they know what they’re doing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Character profiles

Terminology  
⤚⤚⤚⤚

➾ Catchers: Non-Immune (Humans that can be infected)  
➾ Pitchers: Immunes (Humans that can not be infected)  
➾ Skinners: Cannibals (Humans who have reverted to eating human flesh)  
➾ Runners: Zombies that can run  
➾ Walkers: Zombies that can not run  
➾ Hoards: Groups of Runners and Walkers  


Characters (so far)  
⤚⤚⤚⤚

Name: Zeppelin "Zepp" Gray  
Age: 17  
Gender: Male  


Height: 5'9  
Weight: 150lbs  
Race: Caucasian  
Hair color: Black  
Eye color: Brown  
Extra Features: Light freckles dusted across his nose, long horizontal scars all along his back from barely succeeding to get over a barbed wire fence

Class:  
» Catcher

Overall Personality: A passionate guy overall. He enjoys helping people and doing his own thing too. He manages by himself, but also works well with others. If anyone needs someone to go out and gather materials, Zeppelin is their guy. He also is the kind of person to get completely drunk, dress in drag and do the hula

Strengths:  
» Scavenging  
» Finding an escape  
» Problem solving  
Weaknesses:  
» Heights  
» Speaking his mind  
» Confrontation

Attire:  
» Usually flannel under his faded, brown leather jacket, old blue jeans, along with a pair of combat boots

Equipment in Backpack:  
» 2ft lead pipe  
» Small black pistol  
» Tactical knife  
» One piece lock-pick set  
» Silver zippo lighter

Backstory:  
» Zeppelin lost his mom and dad when they went camping on the border of California and Oregon. When a bomb hit about 3,000 yards away from their campsite, Zeppelins parents were hit, quickly turning their brain to jelly and themselves into flesh craving zombies. Zeppelin managed to get away, having to leave his parents behind. He's collected stuff he stole or found off the streets. He never found his way back home, but by choice, he had been warned by an emergency broadcast that his town had been hit dead on by two seperate missiles. Figuring that meant that his house probably wasn't even there at that point and most of his neighbors were probably those undead psychopaths.

»»»»»»»»

Name: Oliver "Ollie" Walker  
Age: 16  
Gender: Male

Height: 5'6  
Weight: 148lbs  
Race: Latino  
Hair color: Dark brown  
Eye color: Hazel  
Extra features: Deep, rough looking scratch scars on the skin over his heart after a run in with some skinners, Vitiligo spread across his whole body.

Class:  
» Pitcher

Overall Personality: Ollie is a goofy guy, but can toughen up on the spot. He tries his best to defend and protect his family, constantly up to help. Though sometimes he overestimates himself at times and may be too bold, he always has the right intentions. People he hangs out with either hate or love his dumb dad jokes, but even if they hate the jokes, they can't help but love him.

Strengths:  
» Farming/Planting  
» Hiding and sneaking around  
» Tracking  
Weaknesses:  
» Careless  
» Easily distracted  
» Spiders

Attire:  
» Dark crewnecks over a white t-shirt, black (accidentally) ripped jeans, and steel toed boots

Equipment in Backpack:  
» Bereta Pistol with silencer  
» Tactical shovel  
» Baseball bat with barbed wire  
» Pocket knife with rainbow sticker on the side  
» First-aid kit

Backstory: Oliver had been biking home from a sleepover when on of the missiles had hit smack dab on his house right in the middle of town. Thankfully, he was on the edge of town at that time, giving his a good 20+ miles to bike as fast as he possibly could in the opposite direction. He didn't turn back once. Ollie had rightly assumed his family was dead and there really wasn't anything left in that town for him anyways. After all that went down, he had been collecting weapons from tool shops and off the streets as he biked around. Ollie wanted to be prepared for anything and everything that came his way. But he didn't know that those "anythings" were zombies.

»»»»»»»»

Name: Power Tripp (That's a nickname, don't worry)  
Age: 17  
Gender: Non-Binary

Height: 6'0  
Weight: 160lbs.  
Race: Caucasian  
Hair Color: Butterscotch  
Eye Color: Blue  
Extra Features: 3 tattoos, stick and poke "for dad" under their right knuckles, professionally done angel wings on shoulder blades, and on their inner lip they have "SHITFACED" from a dare. They also have big scars on their left arm and hand from punching a window.

Class:  
» Catcher

Overall personality: Tripp has a gritty, straight-to-the-point personality. Always determined and fearless, everyone knows they're a bad bitch. They try to keep their emotions in check, resulting in occasional fits of anger. They may seem like a scary, secretive, asshole when you first meet them but they are super chill when you get to talking and if you really get to know them, then you'll know that they will protect you until the end. Unless you wrong them, they will get back at you.

Strengths:  
» Planning ahead  
» Combat  
» Good with cars (fixing, hotwiring, etc...)  
Weaknesses:  
» Too blunt  
» Lack of self-control  
» Thunder & lightning

Attire:  
» Fleece lined corduroy jacket, pale cream sweater, kevlar vest, olive green cargo pants, work boots, black spike studded collar, bandanna around head, paracord bracelet, worn brown leather fingerless gloves, motorcycle helmet

Equipment in Backpack:  
» Hatchet  
» M4 Tactical Crossbow  
» Pocket knife  
» Walkie-Talkies  
» Flask

Backstory: Their mother died in a construction site accident, when they were 8 years old. Since then, they have developed some anger issues, but their father had supported them through everything. When the missiles were launched, Tripp was on a late night walk, their town wasn't directly hit, but the virus quickly spread and reached the majority. They rushed home to find home to find their father was infected. Not wanting to kill him, they managed to barricade their fathers room while getting supplies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These will be updated as the story progresses.


	2. How It Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, how fun it is going on scavenge runs in the early hours of a clear day during the end of the world. And I cry about my backstory and what started all this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and all the ones after it will be in the point of view of Zeppelin. (With some exceptions)

Another morning spent scavenging. The sky looks grey, but what's new. Walking down the road I see the usual; abandoned cars, potholes, tree branches scattered about, and a few bits of shrapnel here and there.

As I come upon an old convenience store, I see something gleam in the window. I go inside, my curiosity taking the best of me.

"Wow, haven't seen one of these in awhile." I said to myself, examining an old zippo lighter, flipping it in my hand.

A good find for the day. But the goal for today is to find the others, whilst avoiding the unexploded missiles that hit the ground and never went off. It's a known rule all around the world; "Don't stay in a house with an active bomb in the front yard".

"Alright, see you later." I waved at the poster of a girl in an advertisement for cigarettes. I've never actually smoked a cigarette, seeing as how they were all desperately taken or destroyed in the 'end of the world' thing that happened that one time. 

Anyways. Who cares about that shit? Time to tell you my tragic sob story of how I got here I guess. Buckle up, you might ball your eyes out, because the main characters backstory is always the saddest. (Mine really isn't, pretty generic compared to other survivors origin stories).

Alright, It was a thursday last May, 64°F and sunny. My parents had dragged me to go camping up near Oregon, they said it was cool and I grew up in a big ass city where all of the plants were basically covered in thin layer pollution, so I was cool with some real air for once. 

So we get there, right? We get all settled and everything, have a campfire, you know, camping shit. Then we go to bed for the night in this real slick cabin. Like real nice, with non-brown water, it was luxury compared to our pathetic apartment back on the West Coast. Then, around 2:00 am, the ground starts to shake, we all wake up and turn on the news, figuring it's just an earthquake. Well shit, were we wrong.

They start yelling about shit like "nuclear war" and "toxic bombs". We were not having it, my mom was screaming, my dad was freaking out and I still had no pants on. So my dad rushes me to my room to get dressed and pack my things, and the ground felt like it was about to explode! Imagine that you are an ant, and you are standing on a purring cats neck, that's probably what it feels like. 

I walk out of my room, about to call for my mom, and BOOM! We all hit the floor. A wave of heat and metal scraps hit the side of the cabin, turns out a missile had hit relatively close, close enough for shrapnel to shred through the wall and nail both my parents. The rumbling settled down. I was in shock for a second I think. My ears were ringing and I couldn't get up. I watched as my mom and dad's skin boiled over and pus looking stuff dribbled out of their mouths. I could tell something was happening, the skin around the shrapnel that had sunk into their skin was turning black and purple. They stay still for a moment and I could start to move, but my ears are still ringing, but besides that I couldn't hear a thing. The two of them start to get up, and I realize that they're heading right this way. At first I was relieved because that means they're ok, right? Nope. I soon came to realize that they weren't my parents anymore. They were barely even people. I ran outside, crawling through the splintered door. As I looked around, I saw that all the trees had been absolutely plowed down, along with all the other cabins even remotely close to us. 

That's the day I learned that silence is really loud.


	3. I Stand Corrected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting people while running away from zombies is weird.

I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way. 

It's been a few hours since I found that zippo lighter, I keep rubbing my thumb over it in my pocket. It's so smooth. The sun is just peeking up from the horizon, but quickly going down. Now I know what you're thinking.

"Hey Zeppelin, what the fuck are you doing out at night where you could be brutally murdered by brainless killers?"

Well I have an answer for you! I don't know. And I haven't seen any walkers around here yet, I think they were killed by the heat blast when the missiles hit. Oh yeah, that's what I'm calling them now, "Walkers". I got it from this show my dad liked, I forget what it was called; The Dead? The Walker's Dead? Dead Walkers? I dunno. Sounds cool though. 

The sun is down now, I have my flashlight with me just in case. I mean, I'm not completely stupid. You know, I think life is really cool sometimes. It kind of doesn't feel real. And sometimes it's lame, but the moon is really cool. All big and round and glowing. If I was a bird, I'd try to fly right up to that bitch. I mean, I know I wouldn't be able to breathe, but I wouldn't know that if I was a bird.

All of a sudden I hear this sound like a hoard of zombies. And wouldn't you know it, that's exactly was it was. 

I see what looks like a really boring parade marching like 50 feet up the road. What do I find to my suprise? THEY CAN FUCKING RUN! So I start BOOKING it down the road, right? Like I'm in a full out sprint while I have these bitches breathing down my neck, keep in mind, I didn't have any clue that these guys were actually biologically possible up until like 12 seconds ago. 

So I'm running and running as fast as my legs can take me and up ahead I hear this yelling. Like, someone is screaming "HELP! HELP!" and I dunno what to do, I have the undead to worry about. But then as I get closer, I see that this kid is around my age, maybe a year younger and he's really struggling. He was stuck between something. So I run off to the side to help him, and I have about a minute to save this guy until we are meals for the those dead guys. Turns out hes stuck on a chain link fence and can't get himself free. So i'm pulling on the fence and he's trying to yank himself loose and finally, the guy is free. 

Now the both of us are running and he's maybe a foot behind me, because my legs are a full 4 inches longer than his, but no big deal. 

Suddenly I veer off to the side, seeing that store I left a little while ago. We rush inside and we are panting, and I'm talking panting. Like two tiny dogs who just competed in the Olympics. We're both bent over, hands on our knees, thank god the guys out there are stupid and don't know that we are literally 30 feet to their right. 

After about 3 minutes of just breathing and sitting down, I get up and walk myself over to this other kid, reaching out my hand to shake his.

"I'm Zeppelin." I introduce myself.

"Olliver." He replies.

I look down at his hand, realizing that the back of his fingers are a different color than the rest of his skin. It looked really cool. I let go before it was awkward.

"Can I call you Ollie?." 

"Whatever you want, man." Ollie said, I could tell that he was still breathing pretty hard. 

I decided to get up and grab him a water bottle from one of the fridges. Despite the water being in a fridge, his was aggressively room temperature. I mean, that made sense, seeing as how all the power was wiped out seconds after the missiles hit. I walked back over to Ollie, handing his the bottle.

"Thanks." He says.

I nod, sitting in front of him. I tried not to stair at him, I had just never seen anyone with his skin condition, so I was curious. I didn't mention it though. 

After a minute or two of silence, Ollie spoke up. 

"Hey, so what the HELL were those things?" He asked me, looking confused and panicked.

I bit the inside of my cheek. "I call them Walkers.'

"Oh like the zombies from The Walking D-"

"Yes! Those guys." I interrupt. 

We sat quietly for another moment.

"I left my bike back there." Ollie said, looking out the window of the convenience store we were still in.

"We can get it tomorrow, man." I tell him, seeing as it's super dark out and there is a group of running zombies still close by.

"Alright." Ollie agrees. "Yo, before all that shit just happened, I didn't think there would be actual zombies."

"Yeah. Well, apparently they are a thing." I say, looking for the lighter, hoping it was still in my pocket. It wasn't.

"Then I stand corrected."


	4. Motorcycle Helmets and Yelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a lot of yelling and weird names.

Ollie and I had slept there for the night, as it was already late, and much too dark to go back and get Ollie’s bike. We slept on tarps we found in the back, and used our backpacks for pillows. Not the not the most comfortable thing, but better than a dirty tile floor with shattered glass thrown in for extra pizazz.

I woke up before him. I had trouble sleeping anyways, and I’ve always been a light sleeper. Ollie seemed cool, I still don’t know what his whole deal is, though. I really want to ask him about what’s going on with his skin, but I don’t want to offend him. It’s not like I care about it, I’m still just curious. But anyways, today we’re gonna go back to get his bike.  
There was a rumbling in the parking lot. It sounded like a motorcycle. I quickly sat up and rushed over to Ollie and shook him by the shoulder to wake him up. 

“Hey. Hey! Get up, quick!” I shook him harder. He started to wake up, thankfully.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, what do you want?...” He asked groggily, he was still obviously tired, but I pulled him up, dragging us both to behind the cash register counter. I took my backpack too, since all my weapons are in there. 

My lead pipe that I picked up a while back, before I found the lighter, was sticking out of the bag, so I took that and held onto it tightly with both hands. We were both breathing heavily. I saw that Ollie had grabbed a crowbar from a shelf below the cash register. I thought that was pretty smart.

We heard the footsteps approaching the door. It was a glass door, but we were crouched behind the counter so they couldn’t see us first.

The bell in front of the door rang when someone entered. We sat there for a moment, breathing heavily through our noses. I don’t know if Oliver could hear his own heartbeat, but I sure as hell could hear mine. I think he was thinking the same thing, because we both turned to face each other at the same time. 

The person was now walking around the store, rifling through the contents of the almost bare shelves. I could hear their feet kicking broken glass to the sides, and slowly making their way to the checkout counter, where we were.

We were both rapidly thinking about what the hell to do. But after a moment, I looked back at him, he looked back at me. We both nodded and I started counting.  
“One… Two… Three…” And we jumped up! I held my pipe like a baseball bat and swung, barely missing a motorcycle helmet being worn by a person who was much taller than expected. Oliver clutched his crowbar like how a little girl would hold a gun, his shoulders were up to his ears and his face was all scrunched up.

The person wearing the helmet yelled in surprise.

“HEY!” They shouted.

“AH!” I also shouted.

“WHO ARE YOU?” Ollie loudly asked.

“WHO ARE YOU?” The other asked back. They started to step forward.

“Hey! Stay back!” I yelled. “You infected?”

“No! Chill out man!” 

“No, YOU chill out man!” Ollie retorted.

There was a lot of yelling, mostly what sounded like a lot of words jumbled together. We were all scared, it was obvious.

“Take off your helmet, show us your eyes. Now.” I demanded. One of the side effects to developing the disease was the whites of your eyes turning a gross yellow. 

“Yeah, yeah, alright!” They said, throwing their hands up before taking off the helmet. “See?” They held the brightly colored helmet under their right arm. “See? No yellow.”

They were right, there wasn’t any yellow. They were clear.

“Alright fine. You’re lucky we didn’t fucking kill you.” Ollie said.

They scoffed. “Yeah, right.” They were obviously tougher, both Ollie and I knew it.

“Who are you? What’s your name?” I asked.

There was a pause between us all. If we were in a movie, there would definitely be epic build up music playing right now.

“Power Tripp.”

There was another pause, it was mostly just Ollie and I looking confused.

“...What?” Ollie spoke up.

They sighed, putting their hand up to their forehead. “Just-... nevermind, whatever.”

“Ok.” “Ok.” Ollie and I answered at the same time.

“Who are you guys?” They asked.

“Uh, I’m Zeppelin, this is Oliver.” I pointed to myself, then to Ollie.

“What kind of a name is Zeppelin?”

“What kind of a name is Power Tripp?”

They nodded, “Fair enough.”


	5. Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ollie got his bike back and now Tripp needs theirs.

So we were walking again, down the same road we came from. This new person seemed pretty cool, but they wouldn't tell us what their real name was.

"What does it start with? You can at least tell us that." Ollie had been pestering them for the past fifteen minutes while I was walking quietly in front of the two of them, leading us back to Ollie's bike.

Tripp kept looking forward, "Stop asking." They said coldly. I knew they were contemplating on whether or not to trip Ollie. 

I will admit, I am a bit afraid of them. Ok, I am very afraid of them, but I will absolutely never tell them that. I feel like they are the kind of person who would intentionally taunt me after I told them that. 

Tripp was tall. Definitely taller than Ollie and I. I was taller than Ollie though. I'd say Ollie is about five foot six, and I think Tripp is maybe six feet? I'm right in the middle. As long as I'm not the shortest, everything is cool, because I hate being the shortest.

The fence that I saved Ollie from was coming just up ahead, we could see the shine from the handlebars of the bike. 

"YO THERE IT IS!" Ollie yelled, and ran to his bike. I kind of hoped he would fall, he was loud. 

He didn't fall. But that was fine too. He took his bike that was on it side and propped it up with his leg. 

"Got it!" He called.

"We know!" I called back. Tripp didn't say anything, but they moved up beside me.

Tripp and I were quiet as we waited for Ollie to walk his bike back to us. For whatever reason, he didn't just ride it back to us. I kept glancing over to Tripp, I'm sure they noticed.

"I like your helmet." I said. I was talking about their helmet that was hanging from the bag strap they were holding. Well, of course I would be talking about that one, its not like they would have a different helmet. I would probably like that one too, if Tripp picked it.

I think they hesitated for a moment, because they waited a few seconds before saying "Thanks." 

"Alright, want to head back to the store or no?" Ollie had asked when he finally got back to us.

"We should keep moving, no point in going back, we took all our stuff with us." I suggested. Why would we go back, anyways?

"No, we need to go back." Tripp spoke up.

"Why?" Ollie and I asked at the same time.

"My bike. Well, motorcycle."

I guess that was a valid reason to go back, "Why didn't you just ride it down here?"

"Because, I wanted to walk with you idiots incase you got lost." They said. Holy shit, they just made a joke.

Ollie and I exchanged looks, dumb little smiles on our faces. "Awww, you like us." Ollie teased.

Tripp rolled their eyes and turned around, starting to walk back to the store, they were in the front this time. I know they will eventually like us, right?

Out of the corner of my eye I see this annoying shine, it was too bright for my liking. I turned bit to see what it was. WOAH, wait, hold the phone, it was that lighter I dropped. 

"Yes! Got'cha." I exclaimed, running over to the side of the road to get it back. It was the only zippo lighter I had ever owned, so I didn't want to have to find another one; It must have flung out of my pocket when I was running from the hoard.


	6. Who even goes to museums anymore?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are too many kinds of beans to choose from

Having realized that Tripp left their motorcycle behind, we walked right back to the store. It is getting annoying, the fact that we keep going back and forth, but it was nice that Tripp wanted to walk with us I think? Though they did call Ollie and I idiots, that's ok, it was probably a term of endearment.

The walk back to the store wasn't bad, it was a bit chilly out, good thing we're wearing all these goddamn layers. All three of us have some kind of jacket on; I have my brown leather, Tripp with their very cool fleece lined corduroy jacket, and Ollie with his crewneck sweatshirt. As I was saying, the walk back was surprisingly nice, no hoards or anything. It was quiet besides Ollie humming All Star by Smash Mouth the whole time. That's ok, I kind of unironically like that song.

Once we got back to the store, I got an idea. I'm so smart, holy shit.

"Wait, Tripp, don't get on your bike yet." I told them.

"Why?" They rightfully responded.

"We should get cans of food and stuff. I've seen people in movies do it." I explained to Ollie and Tripp.

Ollie shrugged and flipped his bikes' kickstand out.

"I'm down. I got more room in my backpack." He nodded and opened the door for Tripp and I.

Tripp sighed, but I could tell that they agreed with my very good idea. We each walked down separate aisles, Tripp had canned stuff, Ollie had drinks, and I had chips and candy. I also grabbed some handwarmers because my hands get cold easily, but that's unnecessary information. I could hear Ollie opening the fridges and freezers gathering some drinks, mostly water, thankfully. I shoved a lot of trail mix in my backpack along with some off brand corn chips. Ollie and I made eye contact from over the shelves, we noticed that Tripp was mumbling to themself and sighing. 

"What't the problem over their, champ?" I asked, I couldn't quite see Tripp, they were crouched down.

"There's too many kinds of fucking beans. And don't call me champ." They stood up and looked annoyed by a can of lima beans they were holding.

"Just pick your favorite, man. No use crying over beans." Ollie smiled at Tripp, trying to cheer them up.

"Shut up, I'm not crying."

"That's exactly what a person who's crying would say."

Tripp shoved a few cans in their bag then ran after Ollie. Ollie and I ran out the door laughing while Tripp tried to catch us. We got outside and were still laughing as we stood in the parking lot. Tripp came out and gave us a look, a look that was probably supposed to say 'You bastards are lucky I'm not homicidal.' but in reality it looked like 'I don't actually want to kill you guys because you seem nice but shut the fuck up.' That was understandable.

Ollie and Tripp got back on their bikes. I didn't have one, which sucks, but Tripp would hopefully let me ride with them on their motorcycle. I started to walk up to Tripp to ask, but I stepped on something. It sounded like the crunch of paper. Oh shit, it was. I bent down to pick it up because what the hell is a crumpled up sticky note doing in an abandoned parking lot?

"What is that?" Tripp asked, as they put on their helmet. 

"It's a sticky note." Ollie said as he walked up beside me, "Does it say anything?"

"Uh, yeah." I responded, squinting at the smudged letters on the note.

"Then read it, genius." A muffled voice from beneath a motorcycle helmet commanded.

"No shit. It's kind of hard to read though." I squinted and tilted my head more. "Shelter, dash, Museum of Sci... and then it cuts off." I was puzzled. Why was it cut off like that?

"Museum of what?" Ollie asked, looking just as confused as I was.

"I think they mean the Museum of Science. It's in Boston." Tripp got off of their motorcycle and took the note from my hand. "That's only an hours drive on my motorcycle."

"If it's a shelter, then we should go!" Ollie exclaimed, looking at Tripp and I.

"It might be a trap." Tripp argued.

"Who would leave a sticky note with the location of a supposed shelter, located an hour away from here, on the ground of an abandoned convenience store where the chances of anybody finding the note extremely low just to trick us?" I put the note in my jacket pocket with the lighter, zipping it up this time so neither of them fall out.

Tripp rolled their eyes and waved me over to ride on their motorcycle, because we knew damn well that I would NOT be walking all the way to Boston. Ollie got on his bike again and cycled over to us, because he parked his bike a good fifteen feet away from Tripp's motorcycle. Ollie looked at Tripp and I with a blank expression on his face.

"You know that I'm not gonna be able to keep up with you if I'm riding my bike, right?" He informed us.

Tripp and I paused for a moment, I wasn't on the motorcycle yet so I walked over to an abandoned truck that was still connected to one of the gas pumps. I slapped the driver side door of the red and dusty truck, looking back at Tripp and Ollie.

"You guys could put your bike and motorcycle in the truck bed? There's enough room for the both of them." We had all gathered at the truck, Ollie looking through the windows, me looking in the bed of the truck, and Tripp opening the hood and looking at the engine.

"Let's start it up! I can see the keys, someone left them in here." Ollie tried to open the driver side door, but it was locked.

"I can break the window to open the door." Tripp came around to the window and looked down at Ollie. Ollie looked back at me and we both shrugged.

"Go for it." I said, assuming that Tripp definitely would not be able to break the window by smashing it with their elbow then reaching in and unlocking the door. Contrary to my belief, they did exactly that. Why was I surprised?

"Want me to try and start it?" I asked, not waiting for a response and climbing right up into the seat.

I took a deep breath really hoping that it would start. I twisted the keys and the truck merely grumbled, if that. We all looked at eachother, thinking of what to do next.

"I can hotwire the car." Tripp said after a moment.

Ollie looked absolutely bewildered, "Who the fuck are you, man?" 

"I'm not a man."

"Ok, then who the fuck are you, woman?"

"Nope."

"Fine, geez, who the fuck are you?"

They smirked.

"I'm fucking Power Tripp, bitch."


	7. Bumpy Roads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit gross, but this shouldn't be a shock since this is a zombie apocalypse.

Tripp had been messing around with wires under the steering wheel for ten or fifteen minutes now, swearing now and then. I had no idea how to hotwire a car, but apparently this was not Tripp's first time doing so.

Ollie was sitting in the dirty pavement playing with a little weed growing out from a crack. Weeds are badass. No matter how many times you try to get rid of them, they'll still be there. 

The truck was finally started by Tripp, it revved aggressively. Tripp seemed happy, I'd never seen them smile before. It was a nice sight, even if it was just for a second.

"Alright assholes, get in. One of you goes in the back, and I'm driving." Tripp said, looking over at Ollie and I. 

I was also now examining the ordinary weed along with him. We got up and dusted off our pants, walking to the truck.

"Dude, we still need to put the bikes in the back." Ollie said, gesturing to the motorcycle and bike that were leaning on the back.

"Oh yeah." Tripp hopped out of the drivers side and easily tossed Ollie's bike in the truck bed. 

"Do you need help lifting your motorcycle?" I asked Tripp, not knowing if they would be able to lift it on their own.

They nodded, but didn't say anything. I smiled and got a grip on the back of the bike, them at the handle bars. We lifted the bike into the back with a few grunts, it was heavier than I thought it would be.

"Ok, now we can get in." I said, walking to the passenger side door, Ollie climbing in the back.

We closed all the doors, locking them. Just incase. Tripp pressed on the gas a bit, just seeing if the truck would actually go, and it did, to our delight. Ollie seemed to be moving around a lot in the back seat.

"You ok back there?" Tripp asked, slightly turning their head.

"No, there's not enough leg room." He responded, sounding annoyed.

"Good." And with that, Tripp hit the gas and sped us out of the parking lot.

We were officially on our way.

\--

None of us had said anything for a bit, maybe twenty minutes. I think Ollie is asleep, his breathing is shallow. It's weird to see so many houses just empty, cars still in the driveways. Occasionally there would be a dog or a cat sitting inside at the door, probably waiting for someone to come home. Maybe someday I could have a pet. 

I thought I saw someone up ahead walking on the side of the road. They're limping, I wonder if they're injured. They're very skinny. She? I think its a woman, her hair is up and she's wearing jogging wear. I think Tripp noticed too, they were speeding up. Just as we were passing her, she looked to us. Her jaw was rotting off. It was hanging on by a ripped flap of skin. Her skin was almost yellow, black blood staining the front of her shirt, dripping from her face.

I looked to Tripp. Their jaw was clenched and they glanced to me for a moment. I looked ahead again, glad Ollie was asleep. I didn't want to look out the window anymore. I wonder if I'll look like that someday. 

I think Tripp has seen more shit than I have. Not, even just in the end of the world, I mean in general. They seemed more put together, even if they act angry and aggressive all the time, they've probably earned the right to do so. Their eyes are blue, I've noticed. But not the blue that people have in movies or in magazines, the kind of blue the sea turns after a storm; just a bit grey. Tired eyes. 

I must have fallen asleep because the next think I know, I'm woken up to what feels like the truck driving over piles and piles of large rocks. Though I kept my eyes closed, I could tell it was dark wherever we were.

"Tripp, what is that?" Ollie asked, he must have been woken up too.

"Don't worry, just keep your eyes closed."

Of course he didn't keep his eyes closed.

"Oh my God..." Ollie whispered. 

Now curious myself, I also looked out the window. I shouldn't have. Because now I knew that those rocks we were driving over were actually bodies upon bodies of men, women, and even children, some still moving. We were in a tunnel, dimly lit by orange lights. I looked back to Ollie, he looked like he wanted to cry. I twisted myself around in my seat so I could put my hand on his knee.

"Hey man, just keep looking at me, ok? Not out the windows."

He nodded, not saying anything. I smiled at him, he almost smiled back, but I knew this wouldn't distract him from the sounds of bursting stomachs and skulls under the tires. It didn't distract me either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes, I wanted to finally update before I went to bed and I didn't have much time to edit.


End file.
